2 years, 6 months and 8 days. That’s how old you were when we left Italy. Our spell in Milan was, to us, just that: a spell, one chapter of many, another adventure after stints in Brazil, the UK, Belgium, Germany, Japan. One day you may think of it that way too (will you share our sense of wanderlust, I wonder?) but until 28 July 2015 Milan was your world. It was home to you.

As time passes and we settle into our new lives in Sweden, I know the Italianess will disappear. So before we all forget, here is what makes you The Little Italian:

1. You are a warm-blooded, southern soulThis could be down to your Brazilian father too, in all honesty, but your tolerance to heat is as impressive as mine is pathetic.

Wellies when it's 35C? Why ever not.

You reaction to "bracing" weather, on the other hand, is comical. All of the two occurrences of it, so far: 1) when you experienced the gales of the British Isles you laughed and tried to lean into them; 2) when we landed into an icy sea breeze in Copenhagen you screamed and buried yourself in my jacket. And there you stayed for the duration of the Scandi trip.

2. You are a FOG. HORN.Not for you the reservedness of your mother or the apologeticness of your father. With the brashest of PERMESSOOOOs you elbow your way to wherever you need to be. You introduce yourself with aplomb to all who care to listen, and more often than not the result is smiles and free chocolate from the child-adoring Italians. You are sociable, incredibly chatty. You know that to be Italian is to make yourself heard. Loudly.

3. Your head rarely hits the pillow before 9PMOn the odd non-napppening day you might relent earlier, but generally you are up and dancing until at least 9 PM. Sometimes 10. There is simply no other way - lunch is late, as are naps, the Afternoon Walk doesn’t start until 5. Iggle Piggle at 6 PM and then off to bed? Ha. Ha. Ha.​4. You are a Milanese city kid through and throughYour passion for the yellow trams that clatter past our front door knows no bounds. You can spot (and loudly announce) a dog poo on the pavement from 20 paces away. Your play is contained and mostly sanitary, even when outdoors. Mostly.

5. You speak Italian. Really, you do! With far better pronunciation that we could ever hope to achieve and an impressive vocabulary, despite the mixture of languages that has been thrown at you since birth. You come home from nursery singing Palla Pallina and something about an angry bruco (caterpillar). When your hands are covered in pasta sauce you shout Su le mani! (hands up) en route to the bathroom, and once in the bathroom it´s Giu pisellino! (willy down). And when you’re angry, your hands speak Italian too:

6. Your tastebuds are perhaps the most Italian thing about you of allDespite my complete rejection of the Italian way of weaning (vegetable stock + baby rice + grated cheese), you would happily forfeit my curries for slices of tangy Grana, my Weetabix for grissini, my digestive biscuits for olives. Breakfast consists of brioches not croissants, and I don’t think you’ve ever eaten baked beans. You do love crumpets though, thank goodness.